Kings of Fire & Order
by ToQuenchAThirst
Summary: The Blue king and The Red King with their respective clansmen, face one another. Character study/description. NOT YAOI.


**Disclaimer:** I most certainly don't own the anime K-project or it's manga equivalent, and if I did, I wouldn't admit it. But seriously, they belong to their respective owners.

 **This show is a bad influence on me—for proof read this pointless short.**

 **Kings of Fire & Order**

"Burn them." The Red king's infamous words rang a buzz of excitement through his clansmen.

The wind atop the skyscraper was as frenzied as a storm. The blue regulation uniform of the Blue King had his brass buttons and folded layers looking as elitist as the man they were attached to.

Two groups faced one another in the dazzling city lights of night, on the highest plane in the bustling capital.

The difference of the two could not have been any more pronounced.

The group in blue all looked to any casual observer like officers of some high ranking office—which they were, but also so much more. They dressed neatly and had an air of refinement, especially the man who was their leader.

To a stranger, he was simply a very attractive man with dark rimmed glasses who looked as smart as he dressed.

To the Red King and anyone who had ever stood in his path, he was the straightest arrow there ever was, he spoke formally in the most affable manner albeit with very strict intonations. He was the type who worked tirelessly, aimed true and always got his man.

He was a individual you couldn't escape, even if you were to travel halfway across the world. His dedication was only second to his penchant for perfection.

He was a precise officer of justice. His qualities of persistence, cordiality, and textbook-clear-cut-no-nonsense-cleanup of business affairs, made him a considerably less appealing figure for his adversaries to behold.

He had power that dripped from the tip of his regulation sword to the sliver brass buttons which shone so sharply across his breast, which you would be sure to see your reflection in them when—not if—he took you in.

He was the Blue king, not only in name but in presence-you couldn't talk about him without mentioning the methodical method which he used to govern his flock. After having knowledge of his utter scrupulousness of nature—he could never appear as just an attractive bespeckled man.

He was a man who got things done, was achingly precise, dangerously clever and did it all with a flourish of order.

It was what made up the Blue King.

"Munakata. Ready." He spun the words like silk from his lips, giving his name and his intention to strike as he pulled his sword out completely, swirled it in the air, then pointed it forward threateningly, albeit in a very tidy manner.

The Red Clansman though the eyes of Munakata, were mere gangsters, unrefined, loud and disorderly. Street ruffians.

Munakata straightened his glasses as though they were about slide off the ridge of his nose. It was a habit of his, a signal that said 'I'm getting done to business,' or 'Is that all you've got. Pardon me, but I'll be making short work of you.'

Next to him, anyone would look out of place, under dressed, and inferior.

The group that faced him was no exception. They were a collection of men and boys with casual jeans, tight shirts or loose shirts depending on their preference, bracelets , charms and tattoos, even complete with a skateboarding hooligan among them. Yes-ruffians.

Mere children of the streets when Munakata in attendance.

The man who led this fierce passionate group of hot-blooded men shattered all preconceptions of a simple chaotic gang, it wasn't his appearance that did it however, that reinforced the idea.

—with a tight white shirt, rusty silver star-shaped medallion around his neck, jeans that fit across his body in a way that was a cause for arrest on their own, blazing red hair that looked as if it was used to being combed back by only two things-the wind and his hand.

Despite all this, somehow he didn't seem like a common thug.

If his title was any to go by.

The Red King.

The name signified that he commanded fire and erupted everything in his path with a quake of violence reducing his enemies to ash with the fiery glowing red that looked like it had been mixed with a shade of fuchsia. This, though, was not the whole of who he was.

The Red King's eyes were not focused ahead at the officers that lined up in front of him, even with the clever Munakata staring him down, he didn't seem the least bit fazed.

Although it should been the other way that was a cause of concern. But even in reverse, Munakata who might have looked too proper to be able to deal with such a 'thug' did not look the least bit daunted by the blazing presence of his adversary.

The Red King's eyes were closed lazily, as if he'd been disturbed from his sleep and he couldn't be bother to be asked to wake up.

He seemed like he did things with extreme leisure, which was an odd mix in a man who, at the same time, was like a fuse about to explode at any given second.

The air around him was hot—stifling and hazardous—when he creaked his eyes open, it was enough to light an inferno.

The pupils that stared out were a light green so washed out they appeared yellow. The way he held himself combined with his presence made it pretty clear that he had brains as well as immense power behind his gangster visage.

This was the Red King, no doubt about it.

The most unusual thing about him wasn't on his person—but next to it.

A child—about ten years of age—with long white blonde hair dressed in a gothic Lolita attire with the most innocent and sincere face had attached herself to his left hand, and looked completely comfortable as if he were the home that she returned to.

A man who looked as illegal as he did shouldn't have any business with a child like that. It was the most fascinating thing.

The leering, laughing squad of ruffian men and boys had muscular poses flanking him on either side. They looked like basic hoodlums, but it was with close concentration that one could see a face in that bunch, like the girl-child, who didn't belong, or _shouldn't have_ belonged.

A boy with a fresh face, as innocent as a rose, with light brown hair falling around his face stood with them. The boy's features were almost angelic. There wasn't a single aura about the boy which hinted of brute force of any kind. He gave the air of someone whose fists were made of marshmallow.

The innocent boy and young girl's presence and sense of comfort around The Red King seemed to contradict his appearance and impression. The two beaming up at him as if he were a saint. How could this man be seen as the scum of the earth?

Maybe beneath his chains, tight jeans, and fire-hot aura, there was a benevolent heart ticking in that King.

Munakata from the other side smiled, his smile was a thing that sloped to the side and looked much too satisfied with itself. His expression, body language and pronouncement of words with a booming voice of authority, hinted that he was someone who was use to being right so frequently that now his judgments were just a natural law that couldn't be refuted. A dangerous idea, when you saw yourself as justice and law.

A man who gives himself no room to believe he could be wrong, might be a bigger problem than one with volatile power shivering at his fingertips.

Which side would prevail over the other. Or would they somehow, someday fuse and create a unique blend, with merged ideas instead of clashing. Or would the more likely destruction of one come to pass. Chaos was possible with two strong unyielding forces.

But there was respect, even grudgingly, where they saw one another as powerful and intelligent. They could count on the other for nothing less than his best. So while they clashed, and had opinions and points they would likely never see eye-to-eye on, there was still considered each other as worthy adversaries.

They were the kings of Fire and Order.

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 **Review!**

Btw, Anna is my favorite character! Thought I'd throw that out there.


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